Amontillado on Rooftops
by thejapanesemapletree
Summary: Parapet: a city crippled at the loss of the Maria suburbs. Hitch: a harlot craving the easy life. Marlo: a man with a dream to become mayor and rebuild the city. Both persons work for the government-pardoned crime ring of the Military Police. Both have clear goals and dreams. Both are children surviving a tough life. (Rated M for prostitution, gang activity, drinking, and drugs).
1. Chapter 1

The first thing Marlo saw was a flash of red. The fiery object whizzed affront his vehicle, the obviousness as loud as a wailing fire engine. The source of the cheerful color did not come from a car or shirt or purse or billboard. No: the fruity shade came from panties. Panties attached to a body, panties worn by a woman. The panties were red. The panties were red with little black bows.

The man startled as his passenger door clicked shut violently. "C'mon, lets go, lets go, we are going to be late!" The feminine pitch held sharp exasperation. The stick was shifted and petal pressed in a moment of instinctive reaction. Under-the-breath swearing sighed through the air. Petite feet mounted into stilettos, strapped up perfectly. The jeweled heels glittered in the side of Marlo's vision, teasing, much like the personality of the owner. Another sigh, and a slump back into the leathery cushioning. "My God, that was close!"

He noted that he could no longer see Hitch's vibrant underwear. The dress decided to do its job after the wild sliding across the hood of the car. A mirror and lipstick tube appeared seemingly out of nowhere from the charcoal folds, the woman checking and double checking the fixture of her lip coloring and eyeliner. "I almost forgot my shoes! You know how disastrous that would have been~?" Her fluty voice sang with amusement, articles snapped shut and tucked away to hide in her plump cleavage. A lump of taste grew in Marlo's throat, causing him simply to nod.

A curly head leaned on an elbow in boredom. "Where are we working tonight? _Songbird_? _Imperial Bar_? _The Palace_?" All earned a negative shake of the head. "No, _The Black Unicorn_." A laugh bubbled up, a slap to the shoulder of the driver swerving the automobile just enough to fluster oncoming traffic. A horn beeped. "The HQ? Awesome!" Hitch praised the idea with pixie glee. Marlo, however, was not so in mirth. "Hitch! Do you want us to crash?" He scolded like a domestic housewife, Hitch rolling her eyes at the worthless chiding.

"Oh, come off it, Mr. Citizen, we didn't crash, did we?"

"With your recklessness we very well could have, Hitch."

"I think you worry too much."

"And I think you worry too little."

Hitch exhaled with exhaustion, watching the streetlights blaze and flicker in their own glory. "At least I do not cling onto unneeded stress." She was quick to yawn before Marlo could defend himself, arms stretched up. "This topic is boring me, so lets change it, shall we? How's becoming mayor coming along?" She always had to go there.

.

"Hey, how's it going~?" Hitch drew the man in with a flexing finger, smirking with catty teasing. Her attracted partner joined her at the bar with an impressed grin. "Not too bad, how about you?" Hitch made a show to yawn and extend her curvy legs to gently brush the man. He fluttered in approval. "Sometimes these nightclubs can be so _boring_," she whined meekly, olive twirled in her martini. "It is hard to find a guy to have fun with…"

These seductions always made Marlo uneasy. No matter how many times he saw Hitch give men aroused chills or her tongue in their mouth would he feel comfortable with her doings. It was when she finally whispered into their ears and led them away that his stomach clenched. He knew what they were going to do, and what could happened, and he worried for the girl. He was kind enough to do so.

"Wow, Hitch finally got her first customer of the night!"

"It is not a competition, Boris."

The man huffed and flipped his shaggy bangs. "In a way… It kind of is."

Marlo scowled at the comment. "You _know_ the profits are split evenly."

Boris sighed in defeat. "I suppose you are right." He ran a finger around the basin of his water glass. "Although… Hitch has eased off her game since Annie came along." A hidden smirk. "Annie is pretty, while Hitch is a succubus." That prickled Marlo's hackles. No matter how rude or annoying the girl, he felt obliged to defend her. He adored her, appreciating her kind tendencies and thankfulness for him.

"It sounds like you are fawning over something you can never have." Marlo spoke coolly. Boris made an unamused noise, face portraying the same. "Eh, Annie is too morbid and aloof for me." He swatted away the accusation with insults. "There is no future with her." It is true no warmth seemed to hold purchase with her. The cold and uncaring that waved off of her held no promise of love or settling down. Marlo could not disagree about the nature of Annie.

The hoofed sound of heels clamoring down a wooden corridor thrummed above the speakers. "Marlo!" The boisterous voice could weave through the music to be identified. "Marlo, he won't pay!" The called upon man could see Hitch with only a shoulder of her dress on and with no shoes. Displeasure and not desperation pinched her features, eyes glaring the chill of razors towards their target. Marlo cleared his throat and stepped from the bar stool. "I am sorry, Boris, but I believe I must be going." His cue had been called.

.

Hitch smoothed the bandage over the gash, receiving a wince. "You did not get hit in the head this time!" She encouraged her partner in crime with cheer, petting his preciously soft hair strands. "You could have gotten a concussion again! A couple scrapes is better, yeah?" She laughed, the man himself getting rosy at his effeminate performance.

The incident began with Marlo being nailed in his solar plexus and slicing his shoulder on the side table. Offended, Hitch took the liberty to stretch the assailants limbs behind his torso until he admitted to where his money was located. The denied woman was redeemed for her services and freed the rat to scurry off. She then comforted her friend until he could stand alone, patching his injuries as her act of kindness.

"Why do I need to be here if you can usually handle things yourself?"

"Because your presence gives me the courage to do what I have to! And you make a good decoy!"

Hitch was a little bullet with a lot of gunpowder: lean muscle packaged in a small frame. She had her own ways to throw around those with more strength and weight that appeared to work. Annie was admired to be a woman who could flatten a 200 pound buffoon with no more than a graceful kick. Hitch knew that if she could master such a versatile technique that _all _her conflicts could be resolved without Marlo being unconscious for three minutes. Yet such a day was not today.

Marlo critiqued Hitch's nursing work, the sting of the wound dissipating. "That is assuring." He mumbled at the sarcastic truth. Hitch took the opportunity to ruffle the iron-straight haircut of her comrade. "That is what I'm here for, Marlo!" An easy shake repositioned the style of the hair. Hitch picked and smoothed certain strays. "Is my little buddy well enough to get back to work?" She asked with a prim-proper accent. Marlo decided with a check-over that he was alright. Linking elbows, Hitch took the lead in returning to the workfloor. "That's my Marlo! I bet Boris is absolutely bored to tears without you!" Marlo lost the say in not returning anyway.

.

Dennis exhaled smoke from his nostrils as the various divisions of currency fanned themselves out across his desk to be admired solely due to wealth and number. "I did so well I should get a promotion!" The braggart of a woman flashed her cheeky smile, more so jesting than hopeful. The bills were scooped up and filed into an open cabinet. Rough scruff of the chin was scratched thoughtfully. "When you are in this business as long as I you will be, Hitch. You are dismissed." Hitch bit her lip in a childish pout, unhappy that her boss turned her away so quickly. She did as asked, however, and left with a twirl of her skirts.

The next woman to enter was not so egotistical with her earnings of the night. She simply placed her stack of money atop the desk and left without a word. The blonde bundle of hair at the nap of her neck and the slopping v-cut of the back of her silvery dress permitted the viewing of her tattoo. A tiger, claws unsheathed knives, with the same icy blue eyes as the owner. Dennis admired the ink work until Annie left the room.

Dennis snuffed his cigar in the dusty ashtray, profits dished out across his workspace in organized clumps. The calculator and old desktop computer were put to work as the financing was done. Purposed mistakes peppered the spreadsheet, the errors unknown to all but him. The unaccounted hundred dollars slipped into his inside jacket pocket, envelops licked and sealed to be sent to Nile at daybreak. The man yawned and rubbed his tired eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

"I just love that kangaroo!" Hitch sang with a voice spiced with a fancy accent. "Never the wrong time for the right wine!"

"Because that is the thing to say about bottom-shelf liquor."

"It gets me drunk either way."

The girl was already partially soapy-eyed with only half of the bottle left to go. The Saturday night tradition of buying cheap wine and taking it atop the tallest building in Stohess to picnic until sunrise or until Hitch slumped to sleep held true for another weekend. Marlo swished the remaining sip of his minimal portion, Hitch knocking back another mouthful with an exaggerated kick of her head. The action was sighed upon.

.

The work shift closed as normal- distrustfulness with money rampant, alcoholic club goers thrown like dice about the floor to be smacked awake with brooms, and colleagues of the Military Police wishing each other well and with promise to see one another during the next week. Annie decided to walk home, alone, despite Boris offering her the passenger seat of his 1994 Saturn. She turned him down with a quiet opening of her lips and movement of her hand, setting off with rhythmic clicks. Hitch thought her imprudent to be walking for blocks on the peaks of devil-red heels. Oh well: not her blisters to worry about.

The next hour was not a pleasant one, the main event consisting of a trip to the graveyard. Not many thought of Hitch as the botany sort, but she did have her one pride and joy: her Kniphofias. Her Flaming Torch Lilies. The bushels were the only attractive thing in her yard compared to the chalky wood and chipping paint of her condo. How the trimming of the yard or front side of the house looked she did not fret over. The flowers were her only concern of the property. This is how Marlo new. This is how Marlo knew she could care about some things.

.

The circumstances that led up to the death of Marco Bodt numbered greatly. The first of these occurrences being the formation of the Titans and the overrunning of the Maria suburbs. Titans proved to be formidable crime syndicate as soon as they moved into Parapet. The gang was mysterious and largely unknown until the takeover. It was rumored that the group possessed a special substance to be ingested or operation that could be preformed, the action making the receiver nearly invincible. Gunfire and blades caused no damage to the person. The injures healed and missing parts returned with the secretion of steam. Muscular strength outrivaled a horse herd. The only sensitive area was the nape of the neck, where a slice could sever the spinal cord. Although, wounds inflicted elsewhere on the Titan caused the person to lose themselves and kill blindly. A family could be obliterated in mere minutes, the Titan rippling the flesh from the bones simply for the sake of doing so. The person became a pawn on someone else's chessboard.

The Maria, Rose, and Sina Highways are all eyelets of the center of Mitras, varying in circumferences. The Maria Highway is the outermost highway with a webwork of roads through the suburbs to reach the Rose Highway. The invasion of the Titans began in the Shiganshina quarter of the Maria suburbs. It is said a giant began throwing cars from the highway onto homes. The Colossal Titan held unusual strength and stature. Some claims state he was eight feet tall, others ten, all telling of the bare muscles created by scalding steam that melted his skin. He used his strength to split an opening in the Maria Highway and invite in his brethren. He did not kill by the usual ripping out of the throat of the berserk others. He retained intelligence and crushed people while they slept.

The Armored Titan was a man leathered in plated skin. This cushioning he used to cripple the supporting beams of the branch roads and of the Maria Highway. The concrete slab used to support the highway collapsed with cracks. He cut the Maria suburbs off from the rest of the city. He paved the way for the other Titans to pick off the scurrying rats remaining in the area. The Titans won their territory with liters of civilian blood spilled.

The surviving moved inside to the Rose suburbs or outside the city altogether. Price inflation swamped the housing market and grocery stores. The businesses of the Maria suburbs were lost. The economy began to buckle. Eviction of the people of the Maria suburbs followed soon after, the order to reclaim their abandoned homes or to abandon Parapet. More died by the Titans.

Walls were erected between the Trost, Karanese, Utopia, and Klorva quarters of the Rose suburbs. The idea became to quarantine the incident of another Titan attack should the idea fruition. It proved to be useful indeed when the Titans attempted to overtake the Trost section years afterwards.

.

It is unclear why the government pardons the deeds and crimes of the Military Police, whether it be that the organization owns the enterprise that trains the police force, or the provided drugs and hookers to the government officials, or the promise to flush the Titans out of the city. All is known is that the mayor approves of the protection he receives from his bodyguards, once top ten graduates of the academy. It is a wide-spread dream: to live rich and comfortably in the interior sector with the mayor, far from the Titan threat.

Marco Bodt possessed a similar ambition with a nobler cause: he strived to serve the mayor. He was enthusiastic with his desire, idealistic ways keeping him chipper and hopeful. Hitch thought it a shame for his heart to be crushed when he uncovered the corruption of the system and how he needed to work from the bottom up like her. It amused her to watch the new recruits shiver and squirm under the spit-flinging voice of Instructor Shadis. It only took a few days of suffering to bore her, the boy named Eren Jaeger colliding his head with the ground an occasion to roar and heave with laughter. The grapping hooks used to hang above the Titans and gain access to their necks seemed troubling to him.

Even though Hitch left the trainees to their own devices, she retained interest in the boy yearning to join the Military Police ranks. She took it upon herself to gain an acquaintanceship with Marco. It did not take him very long to see passed her veil of cynical apathy and chafe teasing to find the tender gratefulness she could hold for those she cared for. He proved to be an excellent judge of character, much like uncloaking the compassion in Jean after disregarding the pretentious part of his personality. It is strange how neither male or female initiated something more than a platonic relationship until the concluding weeks of the academy training.

.

The Battle of Trost occurred a day before the fresh recruits graduated and while they were in the city. The Colossal Titan did as before: pummeling homes with the chucking of vehicles, ushering in the army of Titans with an split in the Rose Highway. The widespread fear became than the Armored Titan would reappear and dismantle the walls between suburbs as well as the roadways. The stationary police force of the Garrison were forced to work alone with the trainees, the special operations squad of the Recon Corps long before traveling through the city. They had another mission to attempt a reclaiming of the lands stolen by the Titans.

Eren Jaeger, the soldier who could not balance on the wires of the 3Deminsional Maneuver Gear, became an important figure in the saving of Trost. The gas used to power the thrust of the 3DMG was running low and the warehouse was overrun with Titans. Eren, who was long thought to have bled to death in front of his comrades, reappeared. Not as before, for he was alive, raging, and powerful with the brawn of the Titans. His one goal was to kill not humans, but his own kind. He assisted in ridding the warehouse of Titans and preserving the lives of his fellow cadets.

Dot Pixis saw the potential in the trainee that could shift into a Titan that retained human intellect that Kitts Woerman did not. He devised a plan with the boy to plug the hole and end the onslaught of the Titans, regaining the city of Trost. The operation ran and eventually succeeded, the entrance blocked with the aid of the boy. The campaign to regain Trost was how Marco met his demise. He was found by his friend in the cleanup, a bite carving out his right side.

Jean was the one brave enough to tell Hitch. He arrived at her door saluting, choking with his own woe, and bearing the bad news with tears caused by the absence of the man. Hitch just stared at him, blankly, before speaking a quiet "Okay…". She clicked the door shut like she did not care, like she would not allow herself to. Her coping became to gulp glasses of box wine until she could no longer remember the name or face of a boy called Marco.

It became the responsibility of Marlo, the man with the name so similar, to assist Hitch with gaining her pride back. He encouraged her at work, radiated sympathy, and disposed her condo of alcoholic beverages. It took time for her to stand on her own two feet in spite of mourning. "Why?" Hitch asked the man who helped her, who gave days in the effort to make her happy again. He answered like he did most things: "Because it is the right thing to do."

.

Hitch glared down at the empty bottle is disgust. "Well, damn…" The finishing of the wine signaled the finishing of the night. She had worked, decorated the grave of her fallen boyfriend with the heads of her Kniphofias, shaved off the last of her Shiraz, and the horizon was brightening rapidly. The bottle was tipped over the edge of the building, falling to its doom to splatter with a satisfying chime. Marlo made a displeased noise and viewed the shattered glass atop another building.

"Now an underpaid maintenance man will have to sweep up your bottle."

Hitch clucked with her throat, shrugging. "Underpaid or not, he still gets paid to clean it up while I am expected to use my time and effort by taking it to the trashcan for free."

Pumped full of brine it became pointless to try an rationalize or discuss the ethical issues with her argument. A yawn scented of grapes overtook the girl with its magnitude. She collected her discarded heels, making a show to touch the back of her hand with her forehead and lean onto Marlo's arm. "Marlo… Take me home." Marlo prickled at the act she put on to seem like she was asking to be taken to the bedroom, not to her condo. He allowed her to keep her steadiness with one arm while carrying his suit jacket and long-since empty wineglass with the other. "That is what I'm here for."


	3. Chapter 3

Hitch thought of herself more as the indoorsy sort. She typically enjoyed her Sunday by sleeping until the late afternoon to soften the effects of consuming an entire bottle of Yellowtail. She savored a pleased kind of detachment when she watched reruns of sitcoms and dramas while wearing a bathrobe and satin slippers. The entertainment was entirely from the disconnection, the type different from the necessary disinterest she portrayed during work hours. Her collection of yard sale novels could also pry at her attention for hours. The dreadfully vapid books were easier to skim through with microwaved chicken nuggets and smiley face potatoes.

The most recent Sunday, however, saw to Hitch being restless. She could not sleep past noon and could find no happiness with her television or paperbacks. The idea came upon her to spruce up her lawn along with mothering her Kniphofias. The day being warm and partly cloudy, no objections could be made.

Most of the crabgrass was pulled and piled up crudely when Annie emerged from the dark of her home. Hitch scoped a head over the unpainted shadow box fence, a slice of smile crossing her face.

"Good morning, neighbor!" She made pleasantries cheerily.

The addressed woman glared her sleepy eyes, not thinking it so. "It is the afternoon." The tart bite in her voice showed itself superficially.

Hitch puckered up in a pout. "I try to be nice and you are always so mean to me!" A reminder of something Boris said popped up, the man droning on about how Annie attended The Battle of Trost and probably psychologically suffered from it. Another thought threatened to emerged, but the girl shook it off before it could.

With a shrug of indifference, Hitch tried again. "But whatever… Your bed head looks cute, by the way."

Annie huffed, unimpressed with the cover-up.

Crystal, Annie's old Labrador, wedged her nose between the splits of the fence and began snuffling at the gardener. Hitch spritzed some loose dirt towards the dog, causing her to sneeze herself backwards. The assaulter combusted with laughter, falling to the ground and holding her midriff until calm could wash over. Annie snapped her hair into an alligator clip and whistled her dog over to clip a leash on her collar. She made a show ignoring her hooting neighbor, instead putting effort into walking her dog down the street. Hitch released a cough, spent. She perked up again.

"Goodbye, Annie~!" She sang with a wave. "Too-da-loo!"

She did not look back.

.

Hitch also found herself uncustomarily riding the subway out of the city. The beautification of her yard did not quench the desire to be in nature. The Karanese quarter, unlike Stohess, decided to retain Expedition Park instead of constructing more buildings over the green space in an attempt to recover from the lost Maria lands. The destruction of the girl's favorite childhood playground came with an unnecessarily personal aching of the heart. The water was quickly forced to roll off her back.

The only thing to watch while traveling was lifeless patrons and polluted tunnels. To think there were such people who worshiped the Parapet transportation systems mystified Hitch greatly. She saw no godliness in the oily railways or beaten roadwork. Then again, she never thought of herself as religious in the first place. She improved her dull experience by listening with headphones to the music embedded in her cracked cell phone.

The estate was mundane: a cement path bordered with trees, sport courts used in earnest, a playground of plastic and metal the center. Hitch took it upon herself to snag a seat on the swing set before a child could beat her to it. There was no waiting line and easily her body set into a gentle swaying motion. She much preferred someone pushing her, the effort of moving herself absent with another. "Maybe I should find myself a boyfriend," she pondered with a false dreamy sigh, eyes scanning the clouds. The idea caused her to bark a humorless laugh at the ridiculousness of the notion. And where had that gotten her last time? She tilted her head in thought. "Hum… Or a Marlo." She concluded with a catty smirk.

Would Marlo ever be her boyfriend? No. Would he push her on the swing? Yes. The man was too stiff and ambitious for her to consider being romantic with. Her late lover might have been just as determined, but differently. Marco was naïve and warm and confident, while no matter how much of a façade Marlo put up his shaky interior showed. Both had little understanding of the inner workings of the world, but one was constantly encouraged while the other was spat upon. The difference was so drastic that Hitch had no trouble stalemating the care for her colleague to a strictly friendly basis. The strings connecting their fingers were any other color but red and she was not hurt by that.

The slowly rocking girl did not think twice about the quick dialing of her smartphone, the offending crack refracting the shape of the 2, 5, 8, and 0. The break did not slice her finger pads, so she decided to milk the device until another issue made it unusable. The low ringing tone instructing her to be patient, Hitch used her toes to flip and dig under the pebbles beneath her. She perked as the clack of answering interrupted the vibrations. "Marloooooo…" She added a singing whine to the final vowel. "Are you busy?"

.

Marlo hated oversleeping. It showed the weakness of exhaustement, laziness, and disrespect to a schedule. Even though no important arrangements were present on his day off, he still had plans. He customarily awoke when the children of his apartment building began to go about in the late morning. The landlady could do the occupants a favor by housing the larger and younger families near the bottom of the facility, but could not dull the noise of screaming and running completely.

The edifice remained quiet throughout the morning and into the early afternoon. No loud noise stirred Marlo until the vibrations of his cellular device clattered against his nightstand. Uprisen, he scrabbled for a moment to locate his phone before answering. "Marloooooo…" The feminine voice pitched higher than its everyday octave. "Are you busy?"

If he had been in the right state of mind he might have been irked that Hitch had whined his name to try to get what she wanted, thinking such begging mocked his sincerity. He was, however, clouded with too much sleep and floundering to collect his thoughts.

"I am going to the library…" The thickness of his voice spread slowly. Eyes rubbed, he lifted himself to sit.

"Doesn't the library close at two on Sundays?" The girl questioned with overly sugared politeness.

Startled, Marlo found his wall clock only to be informed it was generously past that time. A sigh covered his swear. "… It does."

"Great!" Hitch did not specify whether she found the boy's free time or unraveled dreams in such an opinion. Clearing her throat, she continued. "You see… I have a _bit_ of a problem. I am at the park, on a swing, with no one to push me!"

"How tragic."

"_So_… I was wondering if you could?"

Marlo sighed again. I did not surprise him that she was lazy and shameless enough to ask him to go out of his way to play with her at the park. Her indifferent personality allowed her to hold few regrets.

"… Expedition Park in Karanese, I'm assuming?"

"I knew I could count on you, Marlo! I will see you within the hour!"

The connection died.

.

Hitch decided to treat herself while she waited to account for her invited playmate. A stand within sprinting distance of the playground sold confectionaries. No matter how much she craved spumoni in a waffle cone, she would not abdicate her swing to a brittle toddler. As so, she gathered up her long dress and made a run for it, entrusting her flip-flops to retain her place. She steadied her heartbeat before receiving her ice cream. She returned to her throne unopposed.

She learned of Blondie's heart of glass and how ironic Alanis Morissette painted the world as the juices of the three flavors muddled into a chocolate-covered cherry cashew in the crest of the cone. The flavors were designed not to disgust when consumed together, so the finishing of the pointed casing pleased. Hitch replaced a slipped earbud, humming as she leaned back to sail.

The girl could argue it was not her fault. Although, Hitch having her eyes closed did contribute. She did not notice the youngling until her soaring feet battered into a fragile ribcage. The knocking force vibrated hallow.

The immediate shrieking overrode the music condensed only to her ears. Hitch flustered while skidding still, nearly tripping in her rush.

"Child!" The headphone wires fell beside the form as she knelt to inspect. "_Child_! Oh dear…"

The shivering girl had curled in upon herself, whimpering at the sore side of her torso that she clutched.

"… I'm sorry?" Hitch did not know how to fix the situation before her. She did not feel it appropriate to jostle the child up and share a laugh about the injury. So, she used the only way she knew how to assure.

"C'mon! At least I did not kick you in the head!" She encouraged.

A doe-brown eye peeked out from the bundle timidly. Hitch made sure to beam one of her legendary dazzles of a smile, showing friendliness.

"Yeah! I could have made you stupider!"

The paper doll undid its origami quietly. Like a watchful sparrow, her head inclined sideways in curiosity. Her raised eyebrows widened her eyes.

With a wink, Hitch pointed her finger matter-of-factly. "And we cannot have that, can we?"

She took the flash of teeth and small giggle as a sign to go on. The girl threw herself back to extend across the grass. "I would be absolutely _terrible_! You might end up as stupid as a _boy_!"

The tiny body bubbled with happy giggles. "You're funny!" The littler girl mimicked the display of the other. "If I became like my brother, I might die!"

Hitch exhaled in relief. The event had been sorted smoothly. She could go back to her swing and return to her music in peace…

"My name's Emma! What's yours?"

"Hitch."

"Oh… Will you play with me."

Or not.

.

Hitch ended up doing the polar opposite of her wishes. She launched Emma back and forth on (her) the swing more times than she cared to count. The pair scavenged all the sticks in the sandbox to border a fence around their castle. Hitch was charged with pecking in the details, embedding grains under her nails. She held in her swearing with a breath as she picked at the shards.

She could handle the swings, the sandbox, the slides. She only had to hover into her comfortable zone of indifference. The childish play was not entirely horrid, the scampering reminding her of her younger years. It is when she was introduced to the father that she became partially unhappy.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Hitch allowed herself to be led by her dress to the enclosing benches of the playground. "Daddy! Meet my new friend!"

Dark and narrow eyes peered out of weak reading glasses over a newspaper. "A friend?" The structured voice questioned. The paper was closed. "That looks like a grown woman."

"Boss!" Hitch covered her reactive shock with the overly zealous accusation. "Wow, I haven't seen you since… I was initiated!"

Nile Dawk arched an inquisitive brow. He examined the girl carefully, attempting to find any familiarity. Unlike some in her profession, Hitch did not carry a dirty or melancholy haze about her. Only freckles decorated her arms and not tick marks, she had enough pride keep herself clean, her composure was respectable. Nile hesitated before speaking with a shrewd salting. "… Do I know you?"

Hitch melodramatically poised a hand over her heart. "You mean you don't remember? I work in the Military Police! I am in the squad with Annie Leonhart, Boris Feulner, Marlo Freudenberg… Dennis Eibringer is the captain?"

With the mentioning of the higher-up, Nile nodded in recognition. "Ah, yes, the Stohess fraction. You are… I know it rhymes with…"

"Hitch." A sour note filled her voice at the unwelcome comparison.

A rustling of her skirts caused the girl to glance down. Emma had her mouth gaping in awe. "You are a bodyguard for the mayor?"

She laughed robustly at the notion. "No, no! I am a…" The felt stare was as warming as icicles. "I am, ah, still in training…" The child squeaked in excitement regardless.

.

Nile believed it high time to make the return trip home and Hitch felt much the same. She dismissed her new friend with a princessy wave and flirtatious bow. The brother and father were quizzical.

Hitch whistled while she stood on her swing, scanning the crowd for her favorite man with a mushroom haircut. He was quickly distinguished with such styling.

"You altruistic bastard!" She cried to her faraway friend. She could see his disapproving glare even from such a distance. She smirked.

Marlo approached the girl in the sage sundress with the frown remaining. "There are _children _here."

Hitch motioned between the two of them. "And adults! Better the children learn earlier than later!" She patted her upset cohort on his crown. "Speaking of children… I kicked the boss's daughter today!"

Thus began the humorous explanation via Hitch while Marlo started the pendulating.

**A/N: Why Emma? The name just came to me, eh. Anyway, a little memo. To all the lovely viewers of this work, I shall be traveling until the end of the month! So no writing until then, sorry. Hasta luego!**


	4. Chapter 4

"Amontillado!"

A pause. A question. "…I have my doubts?"

"Amontillado!"

Exasperation. "And I must satisfy them."

"Amontillado!"

"Yes, Fortunato-Hitch, Amontillado."

The still partially in-character girl snatched the bottle to her chest. She rubbed the curls of her head against the raven strands of another, doable while resting on a ledge. "Aw, Montresor-Marlo, you do care about me!"

Another Saturday night came to pass. Marlo decided to spice up the wine choice by purchasing something a little more than bottom-shelf liquor. His audience appeared to appreciate the gesture.

"If I _were_ Montresor-Marlo, I might have already killed you. When you ventured upon insult."

"But insults are my entire personality!" Hitch degraded herself with the statement. The cork of the bottle wedged free with a pop, the girl exhaling in triumph. "Anyway… Here you are!" She announced while pouring a portion of alcohol. "_In pace requiescat_!"

"… That means 'Rest in peace."

"Ah, well: Enjoy your wine all the same."

He sighed.

.

"Annie! You finally came! I told Crystal to wake you up when I left, but apparently she didn't. Sorry!"

The blonde woman said nothing to the other, quietly falling into formation beside her coworkers. Her fierce tattoo was covered today, the unicorn crest of the Military Police across her shoulder blades instead. The agents of Stohess needed their uniforms for a special assignment.

Hitch leaned over to gaze at Annie's face. "You are not mad at me, are you? I said I was sorry! You do not need to be so stand-offish…"

Boris decided to interject. "Leave her alone. You know she probably hasn't completely healed from the Battle of Trost…"

Hitch groaned and rolled her eyes as the man lectured her again on the subject. "It sounds as if you _love_ her."

"Compared to what I think about you, I practically do."

Marlo silenced the two before the battle royal could commence, a door creaking to life. "Enough, Dennis is here."

Fists perched over hearts in a proper salute to the higher officer. Dennis yawned widely as he entered, smoke heaving into the air. He flicked his cigarette and looked down at his papers before eyeing his subordinates.

"… No need for that, relax." Dennis waved down the salutes lazily. Marlo hesitated.

The man scratched his beard before starting. "You are wearing your uniforms because you will be doing a different job today, so listen up. A group from the Recon Corps will be passing through the main street today…"

Annie stiffened up. A flash of surprise rippled her features, swift to disperse. Dennis took a drag before continuing. "It is the job of the Military Police to escort them. We only have to be with them while they are in Stohess, so it should not be too much of a problem. Permission has been granted to use 3DMG in town. Move with them in guard formation. That is all."

Marlo erected himself straighter. "Sir, I have a question."

"Hum? What is it?"

"… What are we guarding them _from_?"

Dennis shrugged and shuffled through his papers. "I don't know."

That did not settled well with Marlo. "I mean, who would attack them? I have never heard of any rebels defying the government in Parapet. What would their motive be? There is petty crime, but…"

Dennis grazed at his beard again. "… You know what?" He shoved the paperwork to Marlo, the boy fumbling to capture everything. "You seem to be asking all the right questions. I leave you in charge."

Marlo took a second to process the jumbled papers in his possession. "… Huh?"

Dennis turned to walk away, waving with one hand, and puffing his tobacco with the other. "All the details are there. Senior officers are busy today, so carry the mission out as you see fit." He glanced back. "Just don't mess up."

.

Hitch kicked the first object she saw, this happening to be a bucket. "I can't believe he dumped all the work on us!" She threw her leg back and sent the container flying again. "The new recruits are doing all the work! I joined the Military Police to be lazy in Mitras, dammit… Only the senior officers benefit."

Marlo discontinued his reading of the instructions. His fingers clenched the edges of the paper, quaking in uneasiness. "Those who only think of themselves… Are _trash_."

Boris halted mid-stretch. "Are you trying to say you are different? You became 'trash' the minute you joined this organization."

"I _am_ different. I am not corrupt like all of you. I want to fix the Military Police."

Hitch blinked her thick eyelashes in mock admiration. "Marlo is a _good _guy. He wants to become mayor so he can make everyone work to earn their keep!"

Marlo decided to dismiss her teasing and venture on. "Those who steal land, leech off the taxes… In order to punish them I must stand at the top. And if I must become trash in order to get there, I do not care. I will do anything for what is right."

"… Do you suffer from these things, Marlo?" The group was startled when Annie decided to speak up. She made her way to the taller man, unafraid to ask her questions. "Or your family?"

Marlo cleared his throat to terminate his initial shock. "… No. But everyone knows these things happen."

Annie inclined her head.

"Anyway…" Marlo motioned outwards. "I do not wish to kill them, only to humiliate them. To show them that if they do not think logically, they are no better than farm animals. I want to turn them back into normal humans… To make humans _humane_ again."

Hitch clutched her stomach as she collapsed in laughter. "You are so _funny_, Marlo! With your ambitious dreams… You are the real deal!"

Marlo scowled sourly at the girl. "Hitch-"

"No." Annie stole the boy's attention, a wise look in her eyes. "Things will end when a "good" person controls the ranks."

Marlo raised his eyebrows. "… So you can speak."

"If you have something to say, say it!" Hitch encouraged. "Make it quick, though."

Annie began a slow walk in a circle, thinking as she spoke. "Just people say just things, I know that. I know people like that. But people like that, like you, are rare. Going against the majority takes a lot of courage… And courage is rare. That said, people who are just, people who are like you, do not represent the majority or what is "normal". You are "special". But what are we called? Those who only care about themselves, those who are corrupt because everyone else is. You call these people 'trash', perhaps even 'evil'."

Marlo waited as Annie ceased her treading. "What is your point? Are you going to tell me not all people like this are bad?"

Annie fixed her eyes upwards. "No… We are bad, clearly not just… But…" Her vision fell to Marlo. "We are normal, aren't we? As you say, if everyone in the Military Police were "good", then it would not be corrupt. I think it is formed in such a way that it brings out the true desires in people. That means I am weak and easily influenced… But even so, I want to be seen as human. That's all."

Hitch lifted her head from the tops of her knees. "That's all? That was sure a long and boring speech, my goodness…"

Boris cocked a grin. "I guess when someone is quiet for so long, it comes out all at once."

Marlo, however, did not find it boring. He brushed a hand through his hair, turned away in thought. "So if this organization requires people to be righteous to not be corrupt… Then it is not the people, but the Military Police itself?"

He spared a view of his watch, huffing. "We have spent enough time talking, lets go!" The squad replied with a groan.

Marlo motioned to the others. "I am serious about this! We need to make sure this goes off without a hitch!"

The named girl popped up. "Does that mean I get the day off?!"

"… You know that is not what I meant."

"Worth a try…"

.

Annie was not stupid. One in her situation could not be. She must always be on guard, always aware, always suspicious. But, regretfully, Armin knew this. And he was not stupid either. The false, pitiful innocence of his demeanor could be used to get what he wanted. He could manipulate. Even Annie, with human emotions and choice words.

"If you don't help me, you will become a bad person to me, Annie."

She complied.

She complied to walk to her death.

Looking down into the great dark basin, she knew. _They_ knew. Somehow they knew it was her who shifted into a Titan. Somehow they knew it was her who brought so many soldiers to their end. Somehow they knew it was her who ruined the expedition. Somehow they knew it was her who was the Female Titan.

Annie did not descend even though the trio delayed at her absence.

"Hum? Annie? What is the matter? Do not tell me you are afraid of the dark? Or cramped spaces?" Eren appeared agitated at her hesitancy.

"… Yes, I am afraid… I guess someone as brave and suicidal as you cannot understand the fears of a cowardly and frail maiden like me. That some fear for their life."

Eren was not impressed. "Someone who can take down a grown man is not 'frail'. Quit with you blabbering and get down here!"

"No. If we do not continue above ground I am not going. I am scared of what is down there."

A beat. Eren, highly irritated, raised his voice. "What the hell are you talking about?! Get down here! Stop fucking around!"

"Eren! Don't yell." His sister chided.

"It is okay for him to yell, isn't it, Mikasa?" She froze. "I have not seen a single person since we got here…"

Annie glanced around as a wind filled the empty street. "… The pain is unbearable. Armin… When did you begin to look at me like that?"

The quivering boy did not release is eyes from the woman, nor his grip on the signal flare at his side. He swallowed.

"Annie… Why did you have Marco's 3DMG? We worked on ours together, so I could tell it was his."

Annie brushed back a free lock of hair. "… I just found it."

Armin had his breath catch. "Are you the one who killed Sawney and Bean? The two Titans we took alive?"

"Perhaps… But if you thought that way when they were killed… Why didn't you do anything?"

The chest of the boy hurt from the reality of the situation. His gaze faltered. "Because… Even now I can't believe it… I was sure I was just seeing things, hoped I was wrong… That's why… And yet… If you had killed me back then, when you had the chance, _things wouldn't have turned out this way_."

Annie did not crumble, even at the truth. Her attention remained elsewhere. "I do feel that way as well. To think I would let myself walk into your trap… I wonder why I didn't just rip you apart then… But I guess I am only human."

Eren still remained in fierce denial. Ever trustworthy of the good in others, his voice rose again in frustration. "_Annie_, you choose the worst time to make jokes, you know that?! Come down here! All you have to do to prove your innocence is come down here with us! _Annie, hurry up_!"

She could not humor him. "… I can't go with you… I failed to become a warrior…"

"_Come on! Cut the crap! Annie!_"

"Annie, talk to us! We can still reason with you!"

"_Enough_." The smooth voice of Mikasa filtered the vain pleadings from the air. "I cannot listen to this any longer." Her cloak flowed to the floor as her blade unsheathed from her 3DMG in a fluid motion. "It is pointless. There is the Female Titan… again."

Annie finally cast her eyes upon the trio. A grin played at her lips. The relief stemmed from the absence of secrecy washed over her. She also had to applaud her opponents for figuring her out, to respect them. If only for a moment.

"Oh, Armin… I am glad I could be such a good person to you. I am also glad your bet paid off, but…" She leaned forward, a wild look in her eye, finger raised. "_My gamble has just begun!"_

_._

The hellish nature of war is one that spreads and branches, like dye in water. Not only is the government wounded, but the populace, the people. The death of a single soldier not only crushes his friends, his family, but his fellow military men, those grieving to see others in such agony over loss. War is a place where men are killed by men for the sake of others. Hitch knew this well. She knew no one could feel like they wholeheartedly won. Not really.

As the buildings fell and people ran in fear for their life, she watched the woman who looked like a corpse shove heavy objects to the earth as she ran across rooftops. People buzzed around her on connection lines as they attempted to cease her rampage, but did not appear to be able to do anything to stop her. The Female Titan hit the ground running on the flatland of a horse track. A single pursuer followed: Eren Jaeger, his muscles abnormally large, physique like a Titan. His roar echoed.

A scream drew Hitch's concentration. A woman was screaming for her loved one, her form pressing against a fallen water tank. An arm rested against the side, body hidden underneath. Bile rose in Hitch's throat. She forced herself to look away.

"… Marlo?"

The boy looked horrified. The war with the Titans was clearly new to him, the truly terrible things in this world fresh. He saw the reality that some things cannot be made humane.

His voice was dry as he spoke. "… Yeah?"

"Even the civilians are put through hell, aren't they?"

"… Yeah…"

She choked.

**THE END**


End file.
